


Toxic

by HerrKirschbaum



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Related, Canon Universe, Dark, Declarations Of Love, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Desire, Emotional Hurt, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Internal Monologue, Internalized Homophobia, Love, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Obsessive thoughts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Reflection, Romantic Soulmates, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Denial, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Reflection, Soulmates, Trauma, True Love, Whiskey - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerrKirschbaum/pseuds/HerrKirschbaum
Summary: "I lower my gaze while I fight down the urge to run after you. Every emotion dies eventually. All it takes is to be hard enough on yourself. You know, Levi, it is not as if I would like men, no. We are friends, are we not? Comrades. A life facing death has welded us together. That is all."Returning to the capital after a horrible expedition outside the walls Erwin thinks about the way homosexuality is treated by their military and society, an old friend from better days, Levi and his own role within their relationship. The failed attempt of dealing with his own identity and feelings eventually leads him down a dark path.





	Toxic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nyranin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyranin/gifts).



 

We met each other a couple of years after basic training, Felix Hartmann and I. Even though he joined the military relatively late, due to his remarkable performances he was soon assigned to our unit, a tall young man, slender but strong, with brown curls and eyes of clear, turquoise green colour. He was us closer by age then the newbies usually were. Mike, Nanaba and I – Hange was not yet with us back then – took him under our wings. He owned a bright, steady mind yet without the naivety that used to be an immanent part of young recruits. Apart from that he had a crude sense of humour we soon took a liking in. Not long and he had grown into a full member of our small clique. When my relationship to Marie ended and I dedicated my life entirely to the scouting legion – it must have been about that time – he encouraged me and was there. It was everything I needed, since even though it was me who decided to break up with her by pure rational motives it naturally did hurt as well. She was an intimate friend of mine after all and precious to me. That is only human and, luckily, passes like everything else in the world. All it takes is patience and faith that better times will come.

It even appeared as if my break up with Marie strengthened my relationship with Felix. We would usually be seen together now. It developed most naturally and without any effort from my side. If there has ever been a person of whom I could have claimed that he had gained a certain knowledge of inner side it would have most likely been Felix. We acted as parts of a greater, higher unit, smooth and efficiently. I liked that. His appreciation offered me something which could, if not kill it, at least ease the emptiness within my soul. This way we lived for a few months in our usual routine, dominated by daily training, nerve-racking resting periods and the expeditions outside the walls, which used to separate our friends from us by death of for the rest of our lives.

It eventually came to the fatal expedition of 835, in which we lost about eighty percent of our unit due to a negligence of our at that time responsible commander Keith Shadis; it was the biggest failure in the history of the Survey Corps and was accompanied by the claim of the broad population to abolish our institution once and for all, as it often happens after such incidents. As we returned back home that day, only a mere fraction of those who, only a couple of days ago, had gone outside, willing to sacrifice their lives for humanity if necessary, remained.

Endlessly tired, staring numbly into space, I suddenly noticed that Felix, who was just riding next to me, was crying and that alone was odd enough. Not a few have taken a dislike in his behaviour, classifying it as weakness on his side, but it impressed me. Tears had already become foreign to me. As all the others I ruled my emotions with iron hands, knowing that it would otherwise be them dominating me and that was not allowed to happen under andy circumstances. But not Felix. After all those years, the countless expeditions and horrors we had faced together, he was still in touch with his very own feelings, just as we all had used to be before live forced us to chose between death and self-preservation.

Thinking of him nowadays it remains the memory which comes to my mind in the first place. We had formed a strong bond. It was, of course, doomed to rip one day. Nothing in life lasts forever. Especially interpersonal relationships are, considering the strength of the involved feelings, of highly fragile nature.

Back then we shared a room. A few days after our return, I was standing next to the window, watching the lights of our capital, he joined me. It was the middle of the night and he was not sober; as so often after their return the Survey Corps frequented local bars and pubs to celebrate their survival and mourn the losses. I had, as usual, decided not to join, since the memories of the past days still troubled me. I cannot recall what we talked about, but it was Felix who initiated a conversation. I noticed right away that something was different. He appeared changed and when I turned at him his eyes glanced at me in the most lost and desperate manner. We talked, as so many nights before, about what used to be, what was, would be and our roles within this tragedy of life. When he seemed to have calmed down a little, he stepped closer, positioning himself right next to me. Before I knew what happened he stood so close that our shoulders touched. He started to talk about the impact we had made on each others life and I agreed. He said without me he would lack the strength to go on in this world, that I was his anchor in this endless stream of death, despair and fear. While telling me he placed his hand on my back. He let his fingers slide over my shoulders as if I was made of glass, cold and flawless, while I was anything but that. Felix acted different than before, but I did not consider it to be important.

Should I die, he went on, he would follow me rather sooner than later. He inquired for my thoughts on that matter.

It would be a waste of human resources to die for such reasons, I said and for a moment he hesitated, muttered with a soft smile that this opinion would suit me quite well and placed his hand on my neck. He searched for my gaze and looked at me in a way I did not understand yet it caused a certain uneasiness within me. Eventually he leaned over and pressed his lips against my temple.

I wanted to know what that was supposed to mean, what he was aiming for and stepped back. When we looked at each other for the next time, his expression had changed. Half disillusioned, half bitter his gaze rested on me and even though I did not understand what I had done I knew that I must had done something wrong. In said night we went to bed without exchanging one more word. It should never happen again.

Only days later he took his things and moved out. His behaviour hurt me, but of course I kept it to myself. I buried myself in work and let things proceed.

A few weeks after a scandal befell the Survey Corps, so unheard-of that even considering the long military history of our land could not offer anything comparable. A few soldiers had been caught red-handed in a, as people used to say back then, compromising situation, involved in frivolous actions with members of the same sex. Felix was with them. Mike and Nanaba were equally shocked and surprised, while I, suddenly, saw the night back than in an entirely different light. Suddenly everything made sense.

The concerning persons were taken into custody, disciplinary processes were initiated. Just as today the times were hard and the authorities' patience for behaviour that was considered not normal was more than limited. Romances within our own ranks were not taken lightly, since they were considered to weaken the troop moral in a long sight. Sexual acts between members of the same sex were punishable, even though we tend to ignore such kind of behaviour in the Survey Corps. People knew that we were doomed to die and therefore our last wishes were respected. People acknowledged the pressure we had to deal with on a day-to-day basis. In this case, though, the moral was considered to be threatened and acted. Nothing has changed much since then. We were fighting a war with the world out there and to secure the slightest chance that, one day, we would finally know what lies beyond those walls and titans, to be finally free, we fought it in a total manner. One became either a soldier or a husband, producing children according to societies norms: The soldiers of tomorrow.

Homosexuality was, just as suicide, supposed to be a waste of our tight human resources. It served only as an end in itself, was not productive and therefore should be, as many thought, fought and eradicated.

The disciplinary process ran its course. It was a show trial, arranged to make an example and therefore open for public. We went there on a regular base and watched it all. Every little detail was retrieved and spread; it was a mud-slinging. Mike, Nanaba and I bore a full testimony considering Felix' character and person, but it could not save him. Maybe, facing the whole incident, the sorrow what would happen to our careers and our own inability to cope with all of that, we simply lacked of courage. In the end every person involved had lost his reputation and ended up stigmatized by society. The simple fact of our former friendship with Felix was enough to endanger our career, even though we had nothing to do with the accusations. Deep inside we formed our own opinions, but in public we began to distance ourselves more and more.

The accused were convicted entirely and the punishments were, as expected, disproportionally high. In the shortest amount of time, Felix and his fellow man found themselves on the lowest rank amongst their comrades. They were ignored. They got played tricks on. Our superiors humiliated them in front of us all. Every now and then I saw them sneak down the hallways with battered, scraped faces. If sex between men was destroying the troop moral, I kept asking myself, what was this? But as I had started to remain silent over my father's ideas I remained silent over this matter as well. We all were, everyone in his very own way, guilty. There is nothing to sugar-coat. Thinking about it now I am convinced that I had to act this way in order not to lose myself – and in secret we all strove towards our own goals.

A couple of weeks after the official verdict the officer in charge summoned me. Mike was already there. He sat on a chair, more silent than usual, if this was possible at all, his head lowered, the eyes reddish. I knew right away that something terrible must have happened.

Felix had been missing during morning roll call. I had noticed it, yet I did not think it to be important, since it had happened oftener these days. In the end, members of the Military Police found him in his chamber. He had killed himself. On said morning I had come across him on my way to breakfast; he left my attempt to greet him unrequited.

The officer obliged us under law to secrecy, threatened us with all sorts of negative consequences should we disobey. The manner he talked down to us made it obvious that his lack of respect toward Felix equally applied to us as well. For him we formed the same sludge of an ailing society. I hated him in this moment, yet an order is an order and therefore I obeyed.

Together we removed the body. Felix had shot himself; when we entered the room I got frightened, since for a moment only I thought him alive. Kneeling on the ground he had placed the pistol in his mouth and shot himself in the face. Afterwards he had sacked forwards. His forehead touched the ground as if he was praying, covered in blood. Pieces of oozed brain regularly covered the neighbouring wall. We did not exchange a single word while working.

In the end, no formal funeral was given. They told the others that he had returned to his home village. His parents received a letter stating that he fell in action. I know that Mike locked himself in his room afterwards and did not leave it for a long while. According to Nanaba he cried a lot during these days. She did not feel any better. We were all equally bewildered and shocked about what had happened. I, though, did not feel any pain. A yawning emptiness, an odd feeling of numbness was all that remained. Young as I was I could neither comprehend nor forgive him. I felt was if he had backstabbed us all and something deep inside of me hated him for what he had done to us. Shortly after we stopped mentioning his name. Soon it felt as if he had never existed. It was the way a system focussing on uniformity operated, wiping out who could or would not adapt. My father and Felix – they shared the same fate. And just like with my father I wondered if Felix would be alive had I acted differently in said night. Back than I could hardly identify with what had happened. I never considered myself to be attracted to men and still do. Of course everyone has his own thoughts and desires – yet if one acts according to his feelings or not is, in the end, what counts. We are, after all-

“Jeez, Erwin, are you sleeping?” Somebody clicks his tongue in a snide manner, bringing me back to the here and now. I need a second to understand where I am. Bridles are resting between my fingers. There is dirt underneath my nails, and, if I am not mistaken, rests of dried blood. My shoulders are covered by my green uniform cape. It has been ripped on some points, here and there dark, dried spots of human origin can be found. I take a deep breath and suddenly I can smell myself. A shower is long overdue. Severe sleepiness takes possession of my body and reminds me of the fact that I have been awake way too long. The past couple of days were spent outside the walls. In this very moment we are on our way back to the place that forms the heart of our world: Midras, the capital city. These are the hours I hate the most, running the gauntlet in shame, since, in the habitants' eyes, we keep failing slightly more with every expedition.

“Sometimes I wonder what's going on in this shitty head of yours. You keep staring into space during our returns as if you'd fed your brain to the titans”, the voice goes on. “But soldiers have lost their sanity for less I suppose, so keep your creepy thoughts.”

I look into the voice's direction and for a moment I believe to see Felix being right next to me, just like back then, but of course this is not the case, Felix is dead, for years he has been dead. No. It is you. With a grim expression you ride next to me and rout those who dare to overstep their boundaries with your gaze – in whatever way possible. You look less dirty than the rest of us, yet it is you who does most of the work. It remains a secret to me how you keep doing that.

“Levi”, I whisper and cannot hide my surprise.

“Who else?” You furrow your brows, looking at me as if I had just lost my mind. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” I take a deep breath. “I was lost in thoughts, that is all.”

You snort and turn your gaze away. “Creep”, I can hear you mutter, but I have known you long enough to know that you are not trying to offend me, rather the opposite.

I look around. People flood the streets and border our path. Some smile cheerfully, children with sparkling eyes look up to us. They share the same dream of following our steps and do not know yet what they want to sign up for. Others appear grim, from time to time they shout populistic slogans at us. An elder lady bursts into tears as she lays her eyes on us and I know right away it must be a mother whose child remained out there, lost forever, probably devoured.

Whenever I see my soldiers neatly lined up in front of me, in their uniform appearances, it becomes hard to remember that every single one of them, if they are not orphaned, is in touch with civilians who care for them and love them. They are more than their uniforms. Usually, though, I wilfully decide to forget this fact.

“The city walls are over there”, you say suddenly, pointing at a large gate that leads to Midras. “Can't wait to be back and away from these crowds.”

 

Inside I order my soldiers to return their horses to the stables and get rid of their equipment. Afterwards they gather on the courtyard. We go through the names list, checking the presents of every single soldier; in action it is absolutely impossible to keep track of who lives and dies. We only tick off the names of those who survived for reasons of efficiency. Today we finish surprisingly fast. For a moment I wonder if there are not one or two pages missing, but the documents are complete. It is a bad omen. A glance at the group confirms the impression. It is obvious that the losses were higher than usual and even the returnees got it badly. I send the wounded to the hospital ward and release the others from duty for the remaining day.

I look for you, find you close to the supply carriage and inform you about the recent developments. You do not seem surprised. We head to the showers. Afterwards we meet up for dinner. Normally we are delighted by every gram of meat the authorities let us eat, but on such occasions we usually dine vegetarian. After the slaughter of the past days I temporarily cannot stand any meat on my plate.

“How many have it been this time?”, you want to know. We sit at a small table in my bureau, only the two of us, surrounded by files and books. The quiet in here is a relief. We have stew and bread, grapes and cheese, but we barely touch the food.

“The casualty rate might be around thirty percent”, I answer without looking up.

“That does not answer my question.”

With a frown I search for your gaze. You have stopped eating and do not even try to hide your disapproval.

“What's wrong?”, I ask.

“Thirty percent.” You give me a snide sound. “This is not the inventory of some shitty market stall, Erwin.”

“And?”

“We lost human lives, not tomato boxes.”

“I am aware of that.”

“So. How many?”

I lower my gaze and state the correct number which is too high, we both know that. Was it my fault? Were my orders defective? Is there anything I could have done to optimise our casualties? How many men have died today because of me? I know that I cannot undo the past, but I must learn from it. For our future.

Looking unmoved on the outside you manage it to nod, only your lips, a little narrower than usual, reveal your true feelings. I do not miss this. Deep inside you are a kind and caring person. You can try to hide it behind a rough attitude and cursing, but not from me. It is not irrelevant to you what will happen to humanity. It is not irrelevant to you what will happen to the Survey Corps. To _me_.

“That's not little”, you finally say and I nod. “Was there anybody I should know about?”

“Felicitas Müller”, I reply after a period of silent thinking. “Johann Schurmann. Franz Bauer. Andreas Lieberum.”

“Müller, huh?” You raise your brows and lower your spoon for a moment. “That's a bother. She appeared promising.”

“Yes. She was young and talented. Quite a loss.”

“As the others.”

“Indeed.”

“Have you seen her die?”

“No.”

We fall silent. Only the rattling of the dishes fills the room. With a face lacking expression you stare on your plate, eating so silently, that people out in the hallway would believe I was alone. The difference between your blunt, loud way of talking and the way you tend to silently remain in the background, as if you were secretly aiming to vanish into thin air is something that has never slipped my mind.

The shadows underneath your eyes are darker than usual. Even compared to your usual routine you have barely slept enough during the past days. You bring the spoon to your mouth. Silently I watch your hands. I have never understood how a man as fatal as you can have such filigree hands. Your fingers are slender and perfect, not made for the work with a sword. They look gentle. How does it feel to be killed with those hand of yours? Like a last tender stroker over your back just before the everlasting sleep?

“Erwin”, you mutter suddenly and I twitch.

“Yes?”

“You're staring. Stop it, it's annoying.”

“I'm sorry.”

With a small sigh I want to turn away when my gaze touches something that attracts my interest. Before I know what happens I have reached out my hand, carefully brushing away some strands of hair from your forehead. A white patch graces your right eyebrow.

“What is this?”, I ask with sudden insistence. “How could this happen?”

“You know how”, you reply roughly, warding off my attempts to touch you. “Titans.”

“You should have reported this to me right away.”

“It's only a scratch, don't wet your pants.”

Is it just me or are you blushing? Reluctantly I let my hand sink and grab the spoon then continue my meal.

“Do you have plans for later?”, I ask eventually.

“Gonna whip my room into shape. We've been away for three days. I would be surprised to recognise my furniture as such, considering the amount of dust that will by now have gathered there.” You sigh. “Jeez, I hate dust.”

“More than titans?”

“More than titans. Dust consists of tiniest pieces of humans, did you know that?

“Oh really?”

“Yes. Skin flakes. Whenever one of our idiotic subordinates scratches his butt he scatters himself halfway across the barracks.” You make a face in endless disgust. “Nauseating. Titans are nothing compared to dust. They usually stay were they belong – outside. Dust, on the other hand, is everywhere. It can leave a man in despair.”

When I silently start to laugh afterwards your face darkens. “What is so funny about that?”

“Nothing.” I place the spoon next to my plate and grab the napkin. “It just fits you to say stuff like this, that's all.”

“It does?” You click your tongue, but it sounds amused. “Well, if you think so.”

Without any further word you lay down your spoon, take my plate and start to clear it all away. You place the spoons in the middle.

“What's with you?”, you ask and your voice takes a slightly suspicious tone. “The usual routine?”

I nod. For a while you look at me with fathomless eyes, as if you are trying to read from my face what you suspect in my mind. “You would probably rather die than telling me where you go whenever we return from outside”, you mock me before you stand up, taking the plates with you. You do not know it – but you are right.

“I'll be home late”, I say and get up as well. “Don't wait for me.”

 

I follow the streets and alleys. It is already dawning, yet hours before the streets have already been in the shadow of the sinking sun. It happens due to the walls surrounding us, an anomaly of nature, which, to those who do not know it different, appears absolutely natural. As soon as one has witnessed dawn outside it cannot be unseen any longer.

Taking care to avoid the possibility of anyone crossing my path I chose a detour from time to time, whenever I know that this way will be frequented less than usual by passers-by.

Don't wait for me is what I have said, knowing that you, as usual, will do it again tonight. Until this very moment it remains a secret to me what exactly it is that makes you stick with me, whether it is the displeasure of returning to the underground or the death of your former friends. Whatever it is – as long as it secures me your company I do not care. We are friends, are we not? There is no reason to overthink.

After half an hour I have left behind the safe areas of Midras and enter those alleys that one should avoid during night – and by day – if he prefers it safe and calm. My steps speed up. To be seen around here, alone, at night, it would do no good to my reputation. I can see you standing in front of me, how you make a face in a mixture of disapproval and disgust. “How pathetic”, you mutter, turn around and walk away, leaving me behind, leaving me. The mere thought is enough to make me want to run, yet it would only attract attention and therefore I call myself to order, if not on the inside, at least on the outside.

Pathetic. Yes, that is what I am, Levi, I am not worth the dust underneath your shoes. I am fully aware of that. Tell me, what is it that keeps you with me? Every day I expect you to question your decision to join me, regret it and leave. I fear that you will look behind my mask and understand how much selfishness and falsehood I truly carry within me. It will happen. I do not know when, but the day will come. It will kill me, you know? In the end you will get what you have longed for, back then when you joined the Survey Corps. It may sound morbid, but the thought that my death could be of any use for someone comforts me.

In front of a timbered-house which can be found hidden at the end of a narrow alley I stop. One last gaze over my shoulder before I step in. The familiar smell of lavender surrounds me, the warmth of a place I know better as it can be considered appropriate for a man of my rank. The furniture is sparse but clean. I run my fingers through my hair and turn around, when a voice sounds behind me, a voice I know quite well.

“Well, well”, she says, “Midras' lost son has returned. Welcome, sir.” The mistress of the house steps close to me. She is wearing bright make-up and a corset so tight that it makes her huge chest spring up.

“Good evening”, I say.

“When we heard the news of your return I sent for the preparations right away.” She gives me a knowing look. “Even though we have a few new-arrivals who could certainly attract your interest.”

“Well”, I begin with a thin but polite smile, “I doubt that.”

“You stick to your routines, don't you?” The mistress of the house sighs and looks at me slightly dispraisingly, just as a mother disagreeing with the behaviour of her son. “Whatever. You are a pleasant customer, so who am I, trying to regulate you?” She laughs loud and wholeheartedly, then pulls a string, which leads to the first floor where it will ring a small bell. “Madame is already upstairs and waiting for you, sir. Shall I-”

“I know the way”, I reply hastily, “thank you very much.”

She wishes me a pleasant stay but I am hardly listening anymore. Instead I turn away from the counter and enter the first floor over the stairs. It is a narrow hallway. Doors on both sides lead to neighbouring rooms. Most of them are closed yet some of them are left slightly open. Voices and the moaning of the other guests reach my ears via the leakages of the wooden planks. I ignore all that, head for the door at the end of the hallway and step inside. When the door closes behind me and I finally realise that I have made it, my nervousness fades all of a sudden.

I find myself in a tiny chamber. Next to the door, on a side table with a stool, there is a bowl filled with water and several fresh towels. At the wall facing the door I can see a plane wooden double bed. There are fresh sheets on it, the pillows have been shaken up. At the bottom end there is a wooden trunk. It surprises me every time how much those rooms resemble our owns in the barracks, if not equal them. In one of the corners I can see a young woman. She quietly observes me with calm, sincere eyes, the only time this evening. She will not talk to me during the upcoming hour, we both know that, it is not the first time, for none of us. It is part of the rules I have established once and which are valid up to the present day. This one time only we will gaze into each others eyes and even though I have lived through this moment countless times a mixture of excitement, uneasiness and shame fills me all of a sudden.

She will have sex with me because I pay her. It is that simple. I treat her well, I pay more than I must, yet it does not change the fact that I become her client in this monthly hour after the return of Survey Corps from its expedition.

I would rather die then to confess toward you that I visit such a place, Levi. Sometimes I wonder whether your mother once saw men like me standing inside her room. Just once you mentioned her toward me and years have passed since then, yet alone what you said was enough for me to make sense out of it. She sold her body to men, am I right? To men like me. How would you look at me of you knew what I am doing here? Would you understand your role in this mess? Would anger be your first impulse? Or chosen callousness? Would you consider me even worth the bother?

The woman clears her throat. Her gaze shows disapproval and impatience. She has a certain attitude, that is why I chose her. Her body is slender yet strong enough to resist me. She is not very tall. Strands of short black hair hang into her face. Apart from her dark eyes one would consider the illusion to be perfect. Black pants and a white dress-shirt cover her body. She will get rid of the former soon but will keep on the latter. I was the one who decided it, back then, it has been a long time.

With a nod she points to the washing bowl, turns towards the bed, lets her pants down, steps out and brushes them to the side with her feet. She then climbs onto the bed where she positions herself on all fours. Her ass, white as milk and in silent expectation of the coming, peeps out underneath her shirt. One look is enough and the so familiar pulsation in my lends pays me a visit. With a few routined movements I undress myself, freshen up and join her. I let my hands slide over her thighs, shift them underneath her shirt and grab her by the hips. She has a boyish figure, something I very much appreciate. For a moment I eye her body this way, then, one aimed thrust later, I am inside of her. It happens quite easily; I have never been a tender person. That the papers compare my gaze with that of a predator is not an accident. I take what I want, now as well, with hard thrusts. Since I can remember my life is going on like this and it works.

It stays quiet inside the room, only my breath and the sound of flesh slapping against each other fill the air. With a lustful gaze I watch her back and wonder if you would be like her in the same situation, so – silent and reluctant. You preferably keep for yourself what moves you the most, so why should you act different here? The skin my fingers are grabbing right now – would it feel the same if it was yours? I suspect this one here to be softer than yours, yet you are well-toned up to the very last fibre, and your skin hides nothing but muscles. You will probably feel as rough as you present yourself. Do you touch the same way? Or do you live up to the looks of your hands? How do you look like if you show your vulnerable side? Not only your body would I touch but your heart and soul.

The thought alone is enough to make me forget myself. With a moan of pleasure I press her hips against mine and cum inside. She lets me do as I please just as the countless men before and after me. Dizzy from the feeling of sudden relief I sink forward until my forehead touches her back. As everything in this house she smells like lavender, while you, always taking care of cleanliness, do not seem to have an own body scent, and I ought to tell you that she exceeds you in this matter.

I leave her alone, walk over to the washing bowl, hastily clean myself before redressing, facing her with my back, as if I could undo thereby what has just happened. I know that she watches me with her big brown eyes – she probably despises me, and even though I hate this more than anything else in the world, I know that this is the price I have to pay for this farce. Next month I will return and everything will repeat. A new round of a game that always remains the same.

Back downstairs I settle my debts. As usual I ask for discretion. As usual it is assured. I turn up the collar of my jacket and step back out in the night. Seconds after the darkness has devoured me.

 

For a while I wander around until the exhaustion of the past days leads me back home. It is the only moment between two expeditions where my mind is calm enough to notice the surroundings. People who just live their ordinary lives, men, women, the old and the young, sometimes, even at this late hour, children, especially during summer. After a few days outside, only surrounded by titans and depravity, it is hard for me, to understand the laughter of children as such. On some days I manage to, but mostly not anymore.

Tonight, though, everything appears calm. No children play on the streets. After a while it starts to rain. I hurry up, but when I reach the barracks, my suit is completely soaked. Like a ghost to whom the nightly hours have become too long, I sneak through the hallways, until I finally reach my room.

Who thinks a commander lives a luxury lives due to his rank and position is mistaken – or mixed up the Survey Corps with the Military Police. The book staples next to my bed are the only luxury that can be seen around here – apart from the bottles of whiskey that Pixis keeps sending me for special occasions. I take out my key, but I find the door unlocked. Carefully I open it and gaze inside. Not far from my bed, on one chair next to the wall, I see someone sitting, dead still. A smile finds its way on my lips. It is you. Of course.

I take a box of matches from my night table and light a candle. Seconds later the warm and yellowish light fills the room. Careful not to make any noise I sit down on my bed and look at you. You are still not moving, sitting, sunken down, on that chair, your arms folded in front of your chest, your head leaned to the side, your eyes closed. Your breath goes deep and regularly. You are vast asleep. Normally you only doze off, always on guard, expecting the worst, but the hardships of the past few days have not even spared you, so it seems.

Who was the last person on earth that has seen you this way? Probably your friends from back then, if so. Your mother? Possible. I watch you for a moment, then stand up and step closer. Never would I have thought that someone like you could appear so calm, so peaceful. What happened to you that you became the person you are now? Tz, Erwin, you would answer, what's with that stupid question? Life's happened, just as to anybody else. And as usual, you would be right.

In front of you I kneel down. Before I understand what happens I reach out and carefully touch your cheek. Soft, I think, softer than expected. Then you open your eyes and look at me. I freeze.

“Levi.” It is barely a whisper.

Your eyes wander up and down, trying to figure out where you are. Only after you look at me understanding appears in your gaze. “I fell asleep”, you mutter, sounding angry with yourself. I let my hand sink and nod. “What time is it?”

“Late enough.” I indicate a smile and you do the same. Then I stand up and walk over to my wardrobe, take off the soaked jacket, hang it up and take a bottle of whiskey from a shelf. I pour us some drinks. When I pass you I hand you one of the classes and step in front of the window. It is still raining. “Gives me a good feeling to know that you're only a human being after all”, I mutter half jokingly, half serious and take a sip. With a sound of disapproval you stand up and approach me.

“What else should I be, huh? A monster like those titans out there?”

“Hardly. There are no one-meter-classes, at least not that I know.”

“Bastard.” We laugh, exchange a volatile gaze, then look out of the window together. I can see the lights of the capital glow in the distance. “What the hell happened to you?” You raise your brows. “Disappearing elsewhere only to return in the middle of the night stinking of lavender.” Shaking your head you take a sip of your glass. “Apart from that you look as if they'd thrown you into the city fountain.”

“I was caught off-guard by the rain”, I say.

“Oh really?” Sarcasm. “Change into dry clothes, Erwin. You catching pneumonia is the last thing on earth we need right now.” You hesitate and carefully eye me with furrowed brows. “Why the fuck are you grinning like an idiot?”

“I am not”, I say but cannot hide the amusement I feel due to your concern about me. With a broad smile I lean against the window frame. For a moment we remain silent and the cheerful lightness that has fulfilled us just now fades into the for our days so characteristic thoughtfulness.

“Have you ever asked yourself who of us is going to die first?”, I ask suddenly. As if the prompt change of subject takes you by surprise you click your tongue.

“You're morbid, Erwin. Stop it.”

“So you did not?”

“No.” I receive a blaming look by you. “We go outside. We slaughter titans. We come back. If necessary I save your shitty ass. That's how the world works, so to speak.” You drink with an expression as if you had just made a joke. Only now I notice how close we are standing together. Our shoulders touch. “But you did ask yourself that, I suppose?” You speak in a low, but almost soft voice. I nod. “And?”, you ask. “What do you think?”

“Nothing. Coincidence has too much influence to make valid statements.”

“That's true.”

“But if I had the chance to choose-”

“No, Erwin. Don't start with that gambling shit now.”

“I would want to die first.”

Only split seconds after I have finished my sentence you turn yourself toward me. Your face shows an expression somewhere between outrage and concern. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It's true.” I sigh. “Believe what you want, but without you we wouldn't be where we are now. I am dispensable, but you're not. Those are mere facts. One has to set priorities.”

“I just follow your orders, that's all.”

“But who gives them doesn't matter in the end, as long as they are given by a bright mind.” Lost in thoughts I gaze at the last rest of whiskey in my glass. “It's you kicking my ass when everything goes down. So What would we all do without you?. What would I do without you?”

“Stop being so fucking pitiful?”

“Maybe.” Smirking I empty my glass and place it on the windows ill. “But it doesn't change the facts. If I had to choose I would prefer you anytime.”

“How pathetic.” I whirl around, looking at you, but once our gazes meet I understand that you have done it again. Insults are the instrument of your choice, whether you are cursing, complimenting, comforting someone. As you notice my surprised expression you provokingly raise your brows. “You're not going to talk back, are you?”

“I'm not.”

“Good for you.”

This way we look at each other until I, without noticing it, place a hand on your shoulder. I feel as if I could feel your strength through the jacket of your uniform. I let my hand slip over the fabric and before we both know what happens, the backs of my fingers gently caress your cheek. You do not move but your expression does not change either.

“Oy”, you start, the voice a mere whisper. “What's that supposed to mean, Erwin?”

Yeah, I think, and do not think it in the same time, what is that supposed to mean? I lean forward and my forehead touches yours. Is it my heart that beats so fast or is it yours? What would you do now if I kissed you like Felix kissed me?

 

**F E L I X.**

 

I freeze in my movements, when I am suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of old sentiments.

That night.

The end of our friendship.

The disciplinary process.

And, in the end, his body lying on the ground of the chamber, the brain scattered everywhere over walls and furniture.

An old, long forgotten fear takes possession of me. It is stronger than anything else, stronger than me. Suddenly I am no longer in charge of myself. I reach out and my hands grab your face, while I can tell by looking at you that you have no idea what is going on here.

“Erwin.” You make a face. “Jeez, Erwin, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Only now I realise in which way I must look at you, with huge, scared eyes. It takes a while for me to come back to my senses.

“Levi”, I whisper as if I was slowly and painfully awaking from a never ending dream.

“Are you alright?”

What happened to your voice? It is lacking the usual hardness. Never before you have addressed me in such a way. Your eyes wander over my face as if trying to make sense of this situation. Nevertheless – there is something else. I cannot read it, though. What is it? Hope? Doubt? Surprise? Or anger? I do not understand. All of this – I cannot deal with it right now.

“Yes.” The fear slowly fades. You grab my wrists and force me to let you go. “I am fine.”

“You are some creepy bastard, you know that?”

“Of course.”

For a moment I close my eyes and breathe until I found my self-control back. When I look at you for the next time, my gaze has cooled down. You have already seen this happen before. With an inconspicuous sigh you lower your gaze and step back.

“We have to take care of the name lists”, I say. “We cannot afford to let the gaps within our ranks be unfilled for long.”

“Yes.” You nod, but your body posture shows displeasure.

“Who has the documents right now?”

“They should be with Mike.”

“Good. Hange and Nanaba are in charge with the clearance of the rooms.”  
“As usual. Personal items will be send back to their relatives.”

“Good. There will be a meeting with the other commanders after lunch to discuss the outcome. You will accompany me.”

“Yes.”

“There are a few things we will have to discuss in prior.” I take a look at the clock next to my bed. “But it's late. It makes more sense to discuss the rest tomorrow morning.”

Once more you nod. In the most unaffected manner you look in my direction. “If that's what you want”, you say.

By that our conversation is over. “Get some sleep”, I say when you are already heading toward the door. “You look exhausted.”

“I do always look exhausted, Erwin.” You are halfway out when suddenly you hesitate and turn around once more. “Erwin”, you begin, but your voice breaks.  
“What is it?”

For a long time you remain silent. You look resigned and it is the first time I can see this expression on your face. It does not fit you. “Never mind”, you say, but it feels wrong. “Good night, Erwin.”

I want to answer, but before even one syllable leaves my lips the door closes behind you.

“Good night, Levi”, I whisper and lower my gaze, while I fight down the urge to run after you, pull you into my arms, hold you, kiss you. Every emotion dies eventually. All it takes is to be hard enough on yourself. You know, Levi, it is not as if I would like men, no. We are friends, are we not? Comrades. A life facing death has welded us together. That is all.

Felix did not understand that.

Just look what it has done to him.

 

 


End file.
